Why does it make you sad?
by ShelPenguin
Summary: Molly asks her father why he doesn't like talking about the war. "Why does it make you sad?" "You know Uncle Fred?" Percy explains to an eight year old about how he missed two years of his family's life and came back just in time to watch his brother die. I've never written a story about Percy or Molly before so please let me know how I did!


hpfanfictionprompts. tumblr. com

Prompt #596. Molly asks her father why he makes that face when someone talks about the war.

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**A/N:** So I've been in a writing mood lately but a mood to write something new. I found this blog on tumblr and this was the first one that made something pop into my head. If you have something that you would be okay with being written, comment it and I'll look at it! **I don't own Harry Potter**. Enjoy!

Please leave a review to let me know what you think! I've never written just these characters before!

**Error of 3rd person to 1st person fixed.**

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"**Why does it make you sad?"**

"Why don't you like talking about the war, Daddy?"

Percy froze what he was doing, which was at the moment filing papers. He composed his face before turning to face his oldest daughter. _Little Molly_, he thought to himself, though she wasn't too little anymore. She's eight years old now and, while she is more easy going than her father, is scarcely studious and curious like he had been at her age.

"War is awful, sweetie. Why _would_ I like to talk about it?" Percy asked her.

Molly shrugged her small shoulders slightly, looking kind of sheepish. She climbed up into the leather chair that was on the opposite side of Percy's desk as him, and then looked down at her knees.

"Uncle Harry was telling a funny story about it the other night."

Molly and her younger sister, Lucy, had spent the night at the Potter home two nights ago for Percy and Audrey's anniversary. He knew that Harry and Ron both told their children make-shift stories of things that happened in a more comical sense than serious sense. It had started when they shared a flat and had Teddy live with them part-time. Back then it was more common for them to wake up from nightmares, and so Teddy would ask about them. Telling stories ended up being therapeutic for the two, and so they've carried on the tradition of bedtime stories every night.

One thing that Percy couldn't bear to think about doing was explain the truth when they were older. Teddy, of course, had more questions because he lost both of his parents in the war, but Harry had to go through all of the stories again and tell the real tale. The versions of the tales which were very dark and very brutal.

"Oh really?" Percy asked his daughter, opting to find out which one she had been told first. He didn't know close to half of the stories Harry and Ron had – how they had gotten away with all the things they did still amazes the once Prefect and Head Boy. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me one about the Quidditch Cup he went to with you when he was younger."

"And what he did he say about that match?" questioned Percy – obviously Harry had left out the whole Death Eaters part.

Molly explained quickly and almost timidly what her uncle had told her and her sister. He elaborated the match – Molly either didn't remember the details or Harry hadn't remembered the match well enough to spend much time on it – and about how 'party-poopers' had come and ruined it. But Head Boy Percy Weasley had saved the day.

_Well that's an unexpected plot twist_, thought Percy with amusement. In all honesty, the redhead had always been fascinated by the way Harry was able to change the stories and act like he didn't know the truth. Percy now understood, however, why Molly was so confused by the fact that her father never told similar stories.

"Well, I'm not as good as Uncle Harry or Uncle Ron when it comes to telling stories, dear. I'm sorry."

"It's okay!" she told me quickly, seeming alarmed. "I was just wondering –"

"I know, Mol," Percy said quietly. Her name was running through his head now – he had named her Molly after his mother, and if he and Audrey would have had a son he would have been named Arthur. Percy felt that it was the least he could do after ignoring them for two and a half years. It still bother him to even think about how he had done that. And then, the night he first attempts to redeem himself, he is distracting Fred and he gets killed.

"Dad?"

Percy focused his eyes and blinked a few times so that he could see his daughter. He felt sick, and knew that his face must had lost its usual presence of color.

"Does it make you sad?" Molly asked in a soft voice. She was so like her mother in this aspect – she was able to make you feel better just by the sound of her voice. "Talking about the war."

Percy swallowed thickly, then nodded once. "Yes it does, sweetie."

"Oh."

"And it makes Uncle Harry very upset, too. That's why he is so good at telling stories – it makes it easier on him."

"Oh," she seemed surprised by this. She seemed a little hesitant to go on, but plucked up the courage to do so. "Why does it make you sad?"

Percy watched her for a couple of seconds, then patted his knee. She happily complied, and joined her father in his chair. Once getting comfortable, she leaned against his chest.

"You know Uncle Fred?" Percy asked her quietly, then felt her nod.

"Freddie is named after him. He looked just like Uncle George!"

"Yes, he did. And I went a long time without talking to Uncle Fred – to everyone, really – and when I saw him and when everything was okay is when… well, that's when he died, Molly. He died when everything was just being okay again, and just when I was able to talk to him." Molly remained silent. She knew to the same extent as every other child in wizardring England that a battle took place on May second, and that before we could celebrate Victoire's birthday, we had to go to Hogwarts and listen to speeches about those who passed away, and that a lot of people – including her family – cried during this ceremony. "I missed a chunk of his life and never had the chance to learn about what I missed from him."

Percy felt a tear run down his cheek and wiped it away. He tilted his daughter's chin up so that they were looking at each other, and he stared into her chocolate colored eyes for a few moments.

"I don't like talking about the war because I showed up just in time to not say good bye to someone that I love very much. But I will always be here to answer questions for you, okay?"

Molly nodded once, and then wrapped her arms around Percy's neck very tightly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered. And then, being very much like her mother, said, "I'm sure Uncle Fred was happy to see you come home."


End file.
